Matt decided to keep going. After all, it was probably all just the pot, anyway. Though, as he rubbed the feet of his writhing girlfriend, he swore he could feel them getting heavier, her legs growing longer, her head stretching further away as her feet pushed into him. His hands couldn't fit around them anymore. And didn't those pants used to be a little long on her?
The cuffs and waistband of her pants grew tight and constricting around her swelling calves. The seams, drawn tight, burst first on one leg, then on the other. The tears raced upward in jerky, popping motions. Ashley was largely oblivious to all of this, panting and moaning on her back. Her ribbed white tank-top, stretched thin by two huge tits, was being roughly handled by her big, growing hands. Ashley had never been so horny in her life, which was shown by the wet, undulating mound pressed against the fly of her pants. Her breasts felt big, bigger than normal, in fact. Two long, hard nipples, which she knew had never been so big in her life, were being mashed back and forth by her palms. "Oh . . . oh god, Matt . . . I think my breasts are getting bigger . . . can you see them?"
Matt certainly could see them. The tank-top, wet with sweat, clung to her bra-less chest. Her breasts, once respectable C-cups, had ballooned several sizes. They looked like two overfilled water balloons, jiggling and rippling as Ashley kneaded them furiously. He was also getting worried. Even though she seemed to be enjoying herself, she was definitely growing now, swelling bigger with each rhythmic contraction of her pussy, with each stroke of her foot. Without stopping, he said, "Yeah baby, they're big, really big. Are you feeling okay, though?"
Ashley sighed and giggled. "Yeah . . . ah . . . I feel--oh--real okay." She could feel her enormous tits moving against her hands on their own, billowing around her fingers. They had grown so large now that her top began bunching up underneath them to accommodate, and was threatening to rip in two. The button on her khakis broke off with a ping, and her asscheeks, partially released from their confines, blew up inside of her pants, driving her wet and seemingly shrinking underwear into her crack. It drove her panties deeper into her crotch, as well, making her yip in ecstasy. Was the growth serum actually working? How big would she get? The marijuana still in her system chased the concern out of her mind. This was like sex, only better. Why spoil it?
Does . . .
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